Zeddie sighed. “Shall a bring you a hamburger, Mr. Danvers?”
“Whatever. Since that cheap-wad COO Devoe let the chef go, even the burgers suck donkey—”
“Stop!” Sandra shouted. “Enough of the language you disgusting man.” She slammed her hand on the table top and started to stand. “If you say another word I will backhand you to Jesus.”
Sandra
Sandra knewwhat Marvin was doing, but sometimes he went too far. She was halfway out of her chair, one palm stinging from the impact with the table, the magazine raised in the other.
Marvin fell silent. Zeddie slid away to replace Marvin’s garden soil for a burger.
Dani nodded at her once and looked toward the kitchen and Zeddie’s retreating back. Her expression meant, “Keep Zeddie busy.” Things had to be happening outside the window.
Sandra sat slowly back into her chair. She knew that whatever Dani had discovered, it had to be related to the missing man that their clients had hired them to find, or the missing student-inmates at table J. Or both.
At some point after breakfast, all four residents at table J had vanished, and the staff had told them that the geezers had been offered a lucrative contract. No one believed it. A contract for four students at once? No. Nu-uh.
Marvin cussed again and Sandra closed her eyes, saying a prayer for patience and calm. While she was praying, she added a prayer for Harold. Her husband was feeling poorly.
Sandra had been a preacher in real life, with no magic in her bloodline at all, until she turned Harold into an emu during a very vibrant dream one night, the year she turned fifty-eight. She had been on heart medication at the time, and the doctors suggested that the medication had caused the dreams and brought on her power.
That accidental magic had turned Harold into a large, long-necked bird, and caused her to lose the church they had built from the ground up—the Trinity Flame of the Almighty God Church had kicked her out for practicing witchcraft, even though it hadn’t been intentional and only a dreadful accident. Even worse, her magic had ruined her family, causing her own children to hate her. Losing the church and her children had left her alone, grieving, and with no way to make a living. She had descended into a world of darkness and depression, until Dani had shown up at her door, needing a forensic accountant to do the books at her new magical investigating business, Tridevi.
Despite Marvin’s mouth, the agency had been her worldly savior. Working there had allowed her to give Harold the best veterinary care, supplements, and food, and keep a roof over her head.
Currently, Harold was in the petting zoo out back of The Sevens with all the other accidentally transformed people being kept safe, until their magic-wielders learned enough magic to turn them back to human. Sometimes that didn’t happen, and they stayed critters. Because she had never been able to willingly bring up her magic, Harold was among the permanently transformed humans, and had been a flightless bird for a decade. For the last few days, he had been off his feed, feeling uckish. Sandra was worried.
She had never before used him in a case, had always kept him safe in a pen at home, but this case was different. Their covers had to be impeccable, Tridevi needed her accounting skills to follow the money trails, and since they were undercover for weeks, Harold had to come with her, also undercover. He had his own perfectly assembled counterfeit documentation. Harold’s presence was helping her false identity to appear even more pristine than Mable’s skillful hacking and electronic forgery had done. A magically transformed emu could not be faked. Harold Holstead was their ace in the hole, plus, she could watch over him which usually allayed her protective instincts. Harold was old for an emu, and she was afraid she would never be able to turn him back to human again, which broke her heart.
Sandra was extremely powerful, powerful enough to be dangerous even to voids. She blamed herself for the evil of turning Harold into a bird, and most of the time she considered that putting up with Marvin’s mouth was a just punishment. Unfortunately, on this case, he’d had to make a point to be as detestable as he could. It was his cover, it helped them to get away with snooping, but still. Enough was enough. And Harold was sick. And the people at table J were missing. And though she’d never say it aloud, sometimes praying wasn’t enough. Sometimes she wanted todosomething. Anything.
Opening her eyes, Sandra took a bite of meatloaf and allowed herself to observe Dani, who was again drinking her iced tea. Had she found their client? Were the missing people at Table J outside that window? Sandra missed being outside. Three weeks she had been stuck here undercover, and she hated every minute of it. She clamped her lips shut on her complaints. Things had been worse and they could always get worse again.
Under the table, Sandra felt Mable kick Dani.
Mable glared at Dani, and her stern friend nodded slightly, shooting them all a look to say things were happening.
Mable
Mable had hada face lift and a boob job before her magic fell on her and she looked better than any of the other old broads at the school. She still had “it” in every way. She was cute, sweet, adorable, and she could use her electronic wizardry to create perfect backstories. Had she been so inclined, she could also ruin a man’s credit and despoil his reputation, not that she ever would. Also, as a brown belt in Taekwondo and a black belt in judo, she could kick butt if they were attacked, and rip a guy’s balls to Mars if he tried to mess with them. Unless she saw blood, of course, in which case she’d be down for the count. Dani mighta started the biz, and Sandra’s accounting skills might have solved a lot of the cases, but Mable’s computer and electronic talents had made them successful.
She patted her hair and simpered at her beau. She liked being blonde, but blonde was tame these days. Maybe when they wrapped up this case, she would go sea witch green. Or cayenne red. That would make Marvin’s pecker stand up and take notice. Dani’s eyes had drifted over to the window again and she kicked her friend again, shooting her an angry glare that she hoped communicated,Are you trying to give us away?
Dani ignored her. There must be somethingreallyinteresting and important out that window. When Tridevi first took the case, Mable had worked for two weeks trying to get into the security cameras in and around The Sevens and Building Z. She had been looking for proof that their client—a Big Hitter magic practitioner—had been sold into magical slavery in some foreign country.
Mable had been alternately livid that she hadn’t been able to break through The Sevens’ electronic security walls, and thrilled that she had finally found someone who could best her. The little she had been able to hack into had been confusing until she asked Sandra for help. Working together, they had discovered some financial indications that their client had not been sold off shore, but was still onsite, somewhere. The current theory was that his power was being harvested. And then they discovered the energy consumption and odd mix of medical personnel at Building Z.
Unfortunately, Mable had needed to be on site and hardwired in to track their clients’ missing family member, and so, one at a time, they had gone undercover. They had been on this case for weeks, trapped on the grounds. And Mable’s laptop had been confiscated upon admission, severely limiting her ability to do any real work. All she had to access the systems was a tablet Zeddie had smuggled in, and the small Invader Dani plugged into an unused wall socket in the lab.
Even with Marvin’s sexual prowess to make her happy, she was getting antsy. She needed a laptop. Bad.
Dani
About ten minutes later,men in white hazmat suites reappeared and drove back to the truck’s usual place. The back doors opened but their position obscured what was happening.
Dani ate a bite of tasteless meatloaf, sipped her tea, and tried to look relaxed. She had gone undercover at The Sevens first, and for the last four weeks she had made it a point to arrive at Table S an hour early for the five o’clock meal. Five was too dang early for supper in her opinion, not that anyone asked her. Civilized time was seven p.m.. Or eight. She would sit alone, sipping iced tea while she relaxed. Dani claimed she liked to look out the window at the garden and rest after the exertions of magic class, which was partially true and completely a lie. There were other things to see out that window than the azalea garden, bird feeders, and the staff parking lot. There was Building Z.
Mable’s kicking and glare forced her to look away from the window again and back to their small group at Table S. She ate another few bites of her dinner and frowned. Marvin was right. It was awful. The green beans were overcooked, and the mashed potatoes were surely reconstituted from dried potato flakes.
